


Amatus

by Lannister418



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:33:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lannister418/pseuds/Lannister418
Summary: An Inquisitor gets little time to relax, so writing up his diary is Jonas Trevelyan's special time.  This evening, Dorian makes it a little more special





	Amatus

 

For a man not naturally gifted in tackling the written word, Jonas always seemed to find such joy in recording the day’s events.  Dorian took another sip of wine and relaxed back into the cushions of the sofa, a quiet smile curling his lips as he watched the big warrior with undisguised pleasure.  Jonas’s brow creased, and his tongue protruded slightly with the effort of concentration as he formed the words on the page; the delicate dawnstone and rosewood pen comically out of place in his beefy paw.  It would be a brave man who made fun of the Inquisitor for his choice of writing implement, however.  It had come all the way from Ostwick, a Satinalia gift from Cecily - his youngest sister; just the sort of thing a girl of 10 might choose for a beloved older brother, without any hint of irony – and that Jonas would happily use without the slightest self-consciousness, seeing only a reminder of the home and family he missed so much.

Maker! How could a man be so beautiful? Dorian had grown up surrounded by perfection, no great family of Tevinter could afford the social disgrace of being attended by ugly slaves, and one could only be presented with so much flawlessness before it became tediously repetitive... But the scar furrowing one weather-beaten cheek, the odd little crook in his nose where it had been broken and never properly reset, the scruff of stubble perpetually adorning his jawline? Imperfections turning a merely handsome man into someone irresistible...

“You’re starin’, Dor...”

The voice lifted the Mage from his happy reverie; Jonas was looking over at him, grinning broadly

“Only because you’re the most enticing sight in the room...” he smiled, topping up his glass and pouring one for his lover “I’m not distracting you, am I?”

Being present when Jonas wrote his diary was a rare privilege, even for Dorian. This was his private time, one of the few occasions when he could close the door on the demands of the world. Jonas shook his head, still grinning

“I’m done writing...” picking up the book he walked over to the couch where Dorian lounged “You want to read it?”

Dorian took the heavy, leather bound book with a smile

“I do hope it’s full of the _most_ delicious scandal...” his smile turned into a faint frown as he scanned the first line “Amatus, _how_ many times must I remind you? Inquisition isn’t spelled with a K”

“I know...” Jonas threw himself down on the couch beside Dorian, kissing him on the cheek “Drives Josie mental though...”

“You are becoming quite the scoundrel, it must be my bad influence” Dorian draped his arm around Jonas’s broad shoulders, idly stroking the younger man’s neck as he continued to read.  Jonas wriggled, chuckling

“That tickles, Dor...” he mumbled, nuzzling closer

“Oh really?” Dorian continued reading while moving his hand to the base of Jonas’s skull “How about there?”

The low, happy, growl told him he’d found exactly the right spot and Dorian’s fingers continued their teasing as he laughed quietly over the description of Varric screaming ‘…like a Sister with a mouse in her smalls…’ when the two Great-Bears emerged from the cave.  Eventually he put the book to one side and began to undo the collar of Jonas’s tunic

“Delightful, as always; and I believe your efforts deserve a reward.”  He slipped his hand inside and around the warm, solid, curve of Jonas’s chest.  The answering growl was deep and insistent, and he pulled Dorian’s mouth to his for a long, hungry, kiss

“Gonna be dinner-time soon…” Jonas warned, as their lips parted.  Dorian laughed again and moved to sit astride the warrior’s lap, undoing his tunic even further.

“Then we shall have to be fashionably late…” he leaned in for another kiss “or even more fashionably absent.”

 

 


End file.
